The Milkyway and Beyond
by OhBreadsticks
Summary: Numerous drabbles. 'The first time I met Stella, she spit me in the face. Such a charming child, she was.' Various characters, many pairings. Rated T for cursing and violence. 'No, Stella, it's not gay. It's called Bromance. And this is our Bromobile.'
1. Crapsody

Because, no matter how feminine, gentle and loving she is now, at the age of seventeen, clad in white silk dresses and extreme charm in the art of socializing, no one in Tenebrae dared to forget the small, petite girl often held between her father's arms, face smudged with dirt, hair in a hastily done ponytail, a dirty and torn dress, screaming profanities that are in no way worthy of a lady.

"GET BACK HERE AND FIGHT! I NEED NO RAPIER TO KICK YOU IN THE SHINS, STUPID BOY!"

* * *

From behind his hand, Noctis rolled his eyes. Sitting before him, the council of his city sat all clad in their usual black suits, discussing things that did not interest him. Transactions, building projects, landscape, who was starting a good business in which street, what guetto neighbourhood needed to be cut down in population.

Hunching his already relaxed posture in his throne, Noctis Lucis Caelum truly realized he had better things to do. Like kissing babies, shaking hands, getting rich, blowing things up in the name of his country -_even if it is the mailbox across the street_- spreading fear through enemy countries, that sort of royalty stuff.

Picking on his fingernails with the tip of his - rather sharp and threatening - sword, he spoke in a casual tone, like he was referring to the weather that day, not taking his eyes from his working spot beneath his nails.

"I think this blade needs of a new sheath. Any volunteers?"

A clean pinkie later, Prince Noct looked up to find the room absolutely empty.

He smirked.

* * *

His name was Lazar. In the name of Lazarus, from the Bible, his mother said. The man everyone believed to be dead, and God, simply ordering him to rise, revived him.

So, he couldn't help but to think how ironic it was the circumstances he and Prince Noctis first met, when he was fifteen.

"He's not dead you idiot." He remembered a 12 year-old Noctis hiss at the blonde idiot who also became a close friend of mine, who we affectionately name 'Shotgun guy'. "He's just knocked out. Oh - Scratch that, he _was_ knocked out. Hey, you okay?" Lazar then opened his eyes, everything blurry, barely making out the shape of a dark figure, where he figured the voice came from, and a blonde shape crouched beside him holding on to something - was that a _baseball bat_?!

"Sorry man, I really didn't see you and the bat just slipped from my hands and - "

"I'm Noctis." The other boy interrupted solidly, offering him a hand, which he gratefully accepted, sitting up slowly. He could now see their faces clearly, the blonde idiot - he decided then to call him Dumdum - bluntly gaping at his scar, stretching over his left eye, and Prince Noctis was, blandly, glaring at Dumdum for his 'rudeness'. I really didn't mind. People get used to it after a while, and the scar was a pale pink shade, unseen from afar.

Smiling at the two, he began to grin at the possibilities these two could offer him.

"I'm Lazar."

His name was Lazar, and since the day Prince Noctis 'woke him up', he began to believe in fate.

* * *

The soldier fell to the floor with a pained groan, slipping into unconsciousness the moment the wide object was - quite brutally - slammed against his head, the shotgun he pointed at Noctis falling to the floor with a metallic thud. Looking up at the source of the man's sneaky attack, he found Stella standing with her usual black dress and white jacket.

On her hands was what used to be a rather beautiful painting framed by a heavy-looking golden frame, now nothing but a piece of broken canvas.

Stella looked at him nervously.

"You should be grateful." She continued. "This was father's favorite painting."

He held back from pointing out obvious things like _she was the one who broke it_ or '_then why the heck is it hanging in the prisoner's hall?' _and instead focused on the fact that, at the moment, she saved him from a tricky situation, remembering the soldier taking advantage of his bound body and weakened state to 'end him', and that, right now, she was risking her own neck to save him under her own roof, betraying her own people.

"I'll buy you a new one."

Stella bit on her lower lip, and glanced at the painting in her hands, and back at him. Back at the painting. Back at him.

"Oh, fine." She huffed, tossing the much useless canvas back into the darkness of the hall, reaching into the body of the guard to snatch away the sphere that imprisoned the princw with bright blue glowing bindings, and after some consideration, she grabbed the shotgun as well.

* * *

"Final count, A hundred and twenty two." Shotgun said proudly before Lazar, who lazily sat on the body of the last soldier he killed, his large Khopesh still piercing the enemies body. Lazar blinked up at him.

"A hundred and twenty two? That's good, for a mindless brat running around with a shotgun." Lazar said cooly. Shotgun raised his head from cleaning his gun to stare at him with a mix of surprise with wonder. Lazar just continued, lighting a cigarette and taking a drag.

"I, for one, killed a hundred and twenty three." Gaping at him, probably not grasping the fact that _he could actually lose to Lazar_, his mouth hung open, recovering quickly as he loaded his gun with a click, and shot the body under Lazar...right between his legs.

Lazar looked up at him with an unreadable expression. _'What the hell was that for?' _was at the tip of his tongue, but suddenly, just swinging that sword seemed so much easier. The blonde spoke as if he had to explain himself. Which he actually did.

"See? A hundred and twenty three." Lazar's face twisted in outrage.

"He was already dead." He snarled. The blond boy blinked at him, innocently.

"He was twitching." Lazar's upper lip curled above his teeth, as he reached for the handle of his Khopesh, wiggling it as it was lodged on the man's head.

"That's because my sword is embed into his nervous system!" He snapped, further proving his point as the soldier's legs spasmed from beneath him as he continued to wriggle the sword.

* * *

Slowly, Noctis left the car, shutting the door behind him, not noticing his three co-workers gathering on the front seats for a better view, his eyes focused only on the white cloaked figure standing before the cliff overlooking the city.

The figure turned around, acknowledging his presence, shifting it's body to face him as he approached, until he stood right before the petite figure.

Slowly, he brought his hands to the inside of the white hood, disappearing in the darkness of it's shadows as his palms cupped familiar warm cheeks. Wriggling his fingers beneath strands of hair, the hood slid down slightly, and he could now see striking, sky-blue eyes staring up at him.

Now, no longer with any doubt, he pulled the small face towards his, sliding his lips into welcoming, honey ones.

Through closed eyes and the excitement of the oh so familiar small body wrapped in his arms, being lifted of the ground to meet his kisses, and the lips molding against his, Noctis didn't see the hood falling all the way, revealing honey comb strands and Stella's relaxed face as she responded and gripped his hair in yearn. But someone did.

Silenced by the shock, you could almost hear a pin drop inside the car. Shotgun, who had been leaning forward from the backseat, was now sitting back in shock. The driver still had the shape of his nose imprinted on the glass, and now sat back, hands gripping the wheel, his glasses sliding all the way to the tip of his nose.

Lazar shook himself of his stupor and smacked his leg.

"I so called that. Shotgun! Gimme my 20 bucks!"

* * *

**Note: I'm going on vacations for two weeks so I decided to just dump all the drabbles into one chapter. I don't guarantee that these many will be published at once, but I'll try.**

**Also, I'm doing this for me, just for the fun of letting out all the plot bunnies in my head for this game. I am not review-hungry, but it always helps to know if you enjoy my work and to get some feedback. :D**

**ALSO: Scar-face's name is _not_ Lazar. I just think it fits him, and I'd rather give them names than refer to them as 'this guy' or 'that guy'. When their names come out, I'll do it properly.**

**See ya! Hope to return with some oppinions about this!**


	2. Mission Abort

"Can you leave the room for a second, please?" The princess of Tenebrae asked as she stood up from the chair by the window of the inn room they had bought for the night. From the other side of the room, a drooling Des and Vires jerked awake from their slumped positions against the wall. How the two of them could simply doze off whilst standing remained a mystery to her.

"Noctis strictly ordered us not to let you out of our sight 'till he comes back." Supporting her weight on her right foot and placing her hands on her hips, she spoke in a light sarcastic - and very much amused - tone.

"And what a fine job you're doing." And while Des still had enough conscience to look sheepish, Vires simply broadened his grin and crossed his arms across his chest in an exposure of muscles.

"Too bad sweet cheeks. We ain't budging." Staring at them with a blank expression for a few brief moments, she shrugged.

"Fine." And as she turned around, she began to unzip her dress.

As soon as half of her naked back was exposed, she heard what could be mistaken for a stampede of Behemoths leaving the room, the door slamming loudly as Des' voice echoed down the hall to her greatest amusement.

"Mission abort! Mission abort!"

* * *

**Okay, so, since everyone around here is now naming them Des, Vires and Sapien until they have their names announced, I'll go with that. ;D**


	3. Underwear Ignition

Drumming his fingers against the table, Noctis lifted his head, cradled by his free hand to glance at his three companions on their meeting for the following mission, forming a plan to sneak into Tenebrae's gates unnoticed.

"Vires, did you bring those smoke bombs you bought last week?"

"A whole bag of them." Des looked at him incredulously.

"You told me it was underwear!"

----

**Please don't shoot me.**


End file.
